A Christmas Story
by anotherredhead
Summary: Kitty struggles to get into the holiday spirit in the wake of recent traumatic events in her life.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Not to be confused with the movie of the same name. There is no Ralphie or Red Ryder BB gun in this story, only characters I love but did not create. The setting is Season 11 and refers to events from the episodes _Seven Hours To Dawn_ and _The Hostage_, which for the purposes of this story happened shortly before Christmas.

A Christmas Story

Chapter 1

_I'll be home for Christmas _

Kitty Russell walked slowly toward her office with both hands full, trying not to spill anything. "Thanks Sam," she said appreciatively as her friend and barkeep opened the door for her.

She carefully set a saucer of milk on the floor before unfolding the napkin which contained chopped up bits of steak she had saved from dinner. She opened the outside door and whistled loudly before calling, "Here Whiskey!"

A few seconds later, a scruffy orange tabby ran inside and found his evening meal. She could almost set her clock by him, he came up at nearly the same time every day. She stroked his back as he happily chewed on a piece of steak.

Kitty had loved animals for as long as she could remember. Her childhood pets had included cats, dogs, rabbits, and once even a squirrel that she had found as a baby and raised to adulthood. The last thing her mother needed was a menagerie to feed, but her daughter was an only child with no father and she couldn't bear to make her part with any of her "friends." All grown up, Kitty Russell was still a sucker for a furry face.

As a result, the alley around The Long Branch was crawling with four-legged creatures that seemed to be spreading the word about her. But this one little feline had particularly captured her affection.

She had first laid eyes on him two months earlier, when he had somehow managed to slip unnoticed into her office and she found him napping next to a bottle of whiskey. She laughed out loud at the sight, his skinny body contorted in a way that only a cat could find comfortable, looking as if he might be sleeping off a drunk.

Her throaty laugh woke him up and he quickly cowered behind the bottle, unsure of this stranger. She slowly approached him, talking in a soft voice and holding her hand out for him to sniff. After rubbing his scent on her fingers, he began to purr and arch his back, extending her an invitation to pet him. She obliged and felt an instant connection—he was a survivor, independent yet wisely cautious, trusting and friendly when given good reason. Whiskey had been a fixture around The Long Branch ever since.

**December 19**

A snowstorm had hit Dodge City the previous night, and Kitty thought this looked like a good day to stay inside. She decided to drag the boxes of holiday decorations out of the cellar and determine what to put out for her annual Christmas party. It was time, she told herself, to find some holiday cheer.

A beautifully trimmed Christmas tree stood in the corner of The Long Branch, possibly the tallest and fullest one she had ever seen. Thad had found it and all her friends had pitched in with the decorating. She couldn't help but think of her mother every time she looked at it. No matter how lean the times, her mother had always made sure that they had a Christmas tree and that Kitty had at least one nice gift under it. Those gifts were among her most treasured possessions now—a porcelain doll, a small wooden rocking horse, a miniature tea set, all carefully packed and taken with her each time she had moved.

Her most memorable gift no longer existed, a musical snuff box that she had gotten when she was eight. She would never forget the first time she had turned the key and opened the lid. It played a Schumann piece her mother loved called ___Träumerei_—or _Dreaming_—and was the most beautiful sound she had ever heard. As a child she had no concept of money, but she later wondered how her mother could have afforded such a gift. She had decided she probably didn't want to know. She just remembered how that song had comforted her after her mother died, and she was heartsick that the box had been stolen from her room when she worked at that first seedy saloon.

Kitty's tradition of throwing a Christmas bash had begun the year she moved to Dodge, while she was still one of the girls at The Long Branch instead of its owner. An outgoing person who loved a good party, she had decided to create the kind of big family holiday atmosphere that she he had never experienced growing up.

An old proverb claimed, "Blood is thicker than water." Kitty begged to differ. Her only close living relative was her father, though they definitely weren't close and she wasn't even sure about the living part. He had been mostly absent during her childhood, and when she briefly met him once as an adult she was suddenly grateful for that fact. She had not heard from him since, and she wasn't complaining.

Other than her mother, Kitty could not imagine being closer to any blood relation than she was to her chosen family in Dodge. She had been all alone in the world when she first arrived in town a dozen years ago, and now she knew what it must be like to have a real father, a brother, an uncle, a nephew. Thanks to that fateful decision to make Dodge City her home, she also knew what it was like to love a man more than life itself. Recently, she had learned what it might be like to lose him.

As usual, Kitty had most of her Christmas shopping done early. She picked up gifts throughout the year whenever she saw a good deal or something that reminded her of a friend. She also enjoyed a new convenience—mail order shopping. The Montgomery Ward Company put out a catalogue offering hundreds of items, conveniently delivered C.O.D. by Express. She was careful not to buy anything too extravagant, as not all of her friends could afford to do the same and she didn't want anyone to feel uncomfortable. For some of the needier townspeople, she would make up baskets of food and small household necessities, beautifully decorated with holiday accessories, delivered under the guise of a "thank you" for some kindness she would vaguely remember from the previous year.

Already wrapped in her closet sat a new carving knife for Festus, a Mark Twain book Doc had mentioned wanting to read, and a gold pen for Sam to open in addition to his Christmas bonus. Thad was relatively new in town, but she had taken an instant liking to this shy, polite young man. She was ready to wrap the new blue wool scarf she had just bought for her tall, blonde friend.

The only present she lacked was Matt's. Shopping for him wasn't always easy. The man wore basically the same outfit every day and thought his one suit was more than sufficient for the few occasions he needed formal wear. He was a practical person and appreciated practical gifts, so she had long ago resigned herself to buying unromantic presents like shaving kits, winter gloves, and camping supplies.

She did manage to sneak in a gag gift occasionally for fun. Matt was a serious man and on the surface didn't seem the type who would appreciate them. But those who knew him well knew that nothing tickled Matt Dillon's funny bone like one of Kitty's gag gifts.

For instance, there was that set of coffee cups containing vials of stomach tonic back in the days when Chester was making the coffee. Matt had found that much funnier than Chester had. Then there was the set of fishing lures "guaranteed to work" after she had out-fished him by an embarrassing number during a rare leisurely day off. One birthday she had given him a fancy handkerchief which had sent him into fits of laughter, a private joke between them.

After the traumatic events of the past few months, they certainly could use a moment of levity like that again.

In theory, this should be a joyous holiday. Against tremendous odds, Matt had recently survived two terrifying, violent incidents which could have easily gone the other way. He was still recovering from the latest one, where he had taken quite a beating. While her relief at his safe return was indescribable, the whole experience had knocked the wind out of her sails and she couldn't seem to get herself back on course.

It wasn't that her feelings for Matt had changed; on the contrary, they were stronger than ever. But events like these forced her to face that she was in love with a man who didn't completely belong to her. He belonged to the town, and he would fight with his dying breath to protect it. She had known that from the beginning, so she couldn't fault him for it. But coming so close to that dying breath had affected her in ways she had never imagined. Maybe if she could get some sleep, she would get out of this funk and into the Christmas spirit.

She missed her mother so much at times like this.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A Christmas Story

Chapter 2

_You can plan on me_

_She heard the faint sound of horses in the distance. Could it be? She ran outside onto Front Street, dark and deserted due to the lateness of the hour. The clip-clop of hooves grew louder until she could barely make out Festus and Thad heading toward her. Across the back of Thad's horse lay a very large man, arms hanging down one side and legs down the other, motionless except for the movement caused by the horse's slow gait. She couldn't see his face but she didn't have to—she knew. That they showed no urgency in getting him up to Doc's told her that there was no need. Her heart raced and her hands trembled as they got closer and she could see the somber looks on her friends' faces. "No," she whispered as tears welled up in her eyes. "I'm sorry Miss Kitty, we didn't want you to find out like this," Thad said sadly. "We did everthang we could've did to find Matthew," Festus added. "But we was too late." She felt weak and dizzy as she found herself spiraling downward in slow motion. Seeing the ground coming at her, she screamed._

Kitty shot up in bed, instinctively reaching her arms back to balance herself. She was taking quick, shallow breaths and thought her heart might beat out of her chest.

Matt was jolted awake by her scream and instantly sat up, temporarily unaware of what had awakened him. He could hear her start to inhale deeply and blow out long breaths, trying to calm herself. He reached his arm out until he found her waist, pulling her into him as her head fell against his shoulder. With his free hand he gently rubbed the side of her face, feeling the sweat in her hairline. He didn't have to ask what was wrong. "It's OK," he said quietly. "I'm right here."

It had been a little over a week since Matt had returned home after four murderous outlaws kidnapped him in an attempt to escape to Mexico. Kitty had first thought he was just late for their planned rendezvous after closing—punctuality had never been one of his virtues—and then became irritated when he never showed up. Her irritation turned to horror once she read the wire that revealed what had happened to him. Despite Doc's assurances, she felt this might be the time she lost him for real.

Only three months earlier she had seen his lifeless body in the street, riddled with bullets from a gang of assassins. She had actually mourned his death that night, living in torment for hours before learning that he had survived. The bad dreams began after that hellish experience, but they had mostly gone away—until the kidnapping. Kitty had not slept the entire time he was missing, and since he had returned so had the nightmares.

Matt Dillon had long ago accepted that dealing with calamity was part of his job. What made dangerous situations bearable to him was that he felt at least some measure of control over them. If someone attacked him, he fought back. If he was injured, he saw a doctor. If falsely accused of a crime, he found a way to prove his innocence. Even situations that made him the most vulnerable—when Kitty or others close to him were in danger—he had always been able to use his wits and experience to save them.

For a man who was often uncomfortable with emotions, he had chosen a profession that required him to deal with a variety of them on a daily basis—fear, anger, worry, guilt. Only those who few who had penetrated his walls of stoic solitude knew just how deeply he felt them. But nothing anguished him like his least favorite emotion, which he experienced on nights like this with Kitty—helplessness. He could not control her nightmares any more than he could control his own.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A Christmas Story

Chapter 3

_Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents on the tree_

**December 21**

It was spitting snow again and the town was quiet. Matt was sitting alone at his desk, thinking that Christmas was around the corner and he didn't have all of his shopping done. Like many men, he could be a procrastinator when it came to matters that didn't involve work. At least Kitty's gift had arrived in time, and he couldn't wait to give it to her.

Matt and Kitty had been good friends her first two years in Dodge, before their relationship blossomed into the deep and abiding romance they had shared ever since. Theirs was a classic story of love at first sight, both of them feeling it was headed in that direction the second they laid eyes on each other. But they came with a lot of baggage—him professionally, her personally—and it took that long for them to decide that they had space in their lives to store it all.

Matt felt it had been less of a decision and more of an inevitability, at least on his part. He had found himself increasingly unable to concentrate on his job or much of anything else as his thoughts drifted toward the irresistible redhead he went out of his way to see every day. He'd had flings and even real relationships in the past, but it had been a while and he had needs. Yet he couldn't satisfy them with meaningless encounters as long as there might be a chance with this woman who had captured his attention in a way no woman had before. He constantly fantasized about what it would be like to hold her, taste her, be inside of her, until it seemed he had only two practical choices—move or find out. Kitty needed little convincing. So despite the risks—Matt concerned about her safety, Kitty concerned about her heart—they took the plunge and hadn't looked back in almost ten years. He had not regretted it for a single day.

Matt was good at a lot of things, but figuring out women was not always one of them. He would never forget the first gift he had bought Kitty after they became lovers. It was her birthday and he had taken her out to dinner, then back to her place for a more intimate celebration. He presented her with a slender square box wrapped with a pretty blue ribbon—something that looked like it might hold a necklace. She had opened it excitedly and discovered a dainty lace handkerchief inside. It was nice, but he could see the disappointment in her face.

"Don't you like it?" he asked.

"Oh, it's…fine," she replied unconvincingly. "Thank you."

Of course he knew it wasn't, and he made her tell him why. If he was going to be her man he wanted to know how to please her, in every way.

Kitty explained that women wanted to feel special, that they liked personal gifts that had meaning and showed thought.

"Am I supposed to blow my nose on this?" she asked. "How romantic is that?"

"Well, I didn't think of it that way. But I see your point," he admitted.

"This is a gift you pick out for a woman. I want a gift you picked out just for me," she continued. "I don't care what it is, as long as it comes from the heart. You could have written me a poem and that would have been the best gift I've ever gotten."

She wasn't upset and she wasn't berating him—she was just being honest, as they always were with each other, and he appreciated it.

"Well, you haven't seen my poetry," he quipped. "That might be something you'd rather blow your nose on."

She burst out laughing as he guided her to the bed, where she ended up getting something just for her after all.

Matt had definitely gotten better with gifts since then, though he still occasionally missed the mark. He had learned that while Kitty was the perfect model for sexy lingerie, it could be considered more of a gift for him than for her.

Then there was the great hat fiasco of year before last. He had seen her through the window of the dress shop looking at a hat with another lady. They were both pointing and smiling and he thought, finally—something I _know _she wants that will be a surprise. But the surprise was on him when he found out that she and the lady had actually been laughing at what a ridiculous looking hat it was. She was able to exchange it for one she really liked, and she loved him all the more for trying so hard.

One thing he had become particularly good at was buying was jewelry. He had joked to Kitty that Mr. Alden, the jeweler and watchmaker in Hays City, was a man's best friend. He had first visited Mr. Alden several years ago when he was in Hays for a trial. It was a long trial and he missed Kitty, and seeing the storefront he decided to bring her back a gift. He described her hair and eye color, as well as the types of dresses and jewelry she wore, and Mr. Alden had recommended a lovely carved shell cameo set in a gold frame. Kitty had loved it and still wore it often.

Ever since, his all too frequent trips to Hays had at least afforded the side benefit of finding a much appreciated gift for many occasions—Christmas, birthdays, Valentine's Day, their anniversary. Of course they didn't have a wedding anniversary, but they celebrated the anniversary of their first date and the first time they made love—which happened to be the same day. And his good friend Mr. Alden had never steered him wrong.

The past few months had been hard on them, there was no doubt about that. Matt just hoped they could have a nice holiday. He was deep in thought when Doc walked in.

"I'm starving," Doc announced. "Ready for dinner, or are you running late as usual?" Kitty wasn't the only one who had been known to wait on Matt Dillon.

"I'm ready," Matt replied with mock offense.

"Is Kitty coming?" Doc asked.

"No, I saw her earlier and she said she wasn't very hungry. She reminded me to save our scraps for Whiskey. I guess cats aren't too picky about their food," he joked.

Doc pulled out the chair across from him and sat down. "Matt, I'm worried about her," he said, rubbing his moustache.

"Why?" Matt asked, even though he had a good idea.

"You know as well as I do that she hasn't been herself lately," he started. "And how could she be after everything that's happened?"

Doc sounded slightly irritated. He loved Matt like a son, and he talked to him like one too. He didn't mince words when he thought Matt was being thick headed or stubborn.

"I know, Doc," Matt said seriously.

"Do you?" he asked. "Look, you've just been through a hell of an ordeal, but so has she. _I'm_ the one who sees what it's like for her when something happens to you, and frankly, I'm not sure you have the slightest idea," he lectured.

"You've been injured, but as usual you won't take it easy or let anybody help. No, you just go on like everything is fine. Well let me tell you something, it's not fine for her. She puts on a brave face because she figures you have enough to worry about, but twice in the past few months she has thought she lost you, and she died a little inside each time. Have you even talked to her about that? Asked her how she feels?"

It was almost a rhetorical question, and Matt didn't answer. Doc loved Kitty every bit as much as he loved Matt, and he needed to get this off his chest. He was on a roll.

"That woman has stood by you for ten years," he continued. "She puts up with an awful lot, Matt, and she doesn't ask for much. Why do you think that is? Certainly not because you've promised her anything. She knows how it has to be with you, but she loves you enough to live with that. And I can tell you one thing, you're a dadburn fool if you take that for granted."

Matt looked at him and raised his eyebrows. "Are you done?" he asked with a slight hint of annoyance.

"Maybe," Doc replied.

Matt wasn't really mad—he respected Doc immensely and knew that he was speaking only out of concern. Doc was one of very few people who knew the extent of his relationship with Kitty, though like many things in Matt's life, that fact was never directly discussed.

_Doc doesn't know_ _everything_, Matt thought to himself. He had spent every night in her bed since he had gotten back, holding her and comforting her. He may not be shouting it from the rooftops, but there was nothing he was more grateful for than the woman in his life.

Matt sighed. "Doc, you know how much she means to me." It was a rare verbal acknowledgement of his feelings.

"Yes, I think I do," Doc replied. "But does she?"

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A Christmas Story

Chapter 4

_Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams_

Matt stopped by The Long Branch after dinner, dutifully bringing a napkin full of leftovers that he had collected at Delmonico's. Much of it was his, as he had only picked at his meal. Kitty thanked him and he smiled as he watched her tear it into cat-sized pieces which she put onto a plate. She opened the back door and shivered as a gust of wind blew flurries into the room. "Here Whiskey!" she called.

She didn't see him, so she peeked around the corner and looked in the box with the blanket she had put out for him when the weather had turned cold. She would let him stay in the office more, but he didn't like to be cooped up for very long and was usually ready to roam after a couple of hours at most.

The box was empty. It wasn't like him to miss dinner, but she was later than usual and thought maybe he had tried his luck elsewhere. She whistled one more time, scanning the alley for a good minute before deciding that she couldn't stand in the cold any longer. She set the plate down outside, knowing that either Whiskey or one of the other alley dwellers would eventually find it.

Matt had some work to take care of and still had rounds, so he left shortly after dropping off the leftovers. He returned at bedtime as promised.

Kitty was exhausted and Matt was still sore from his injuries, so sleeping together meant just that. They changed into their pajamas and Kitty clasped her hands around his neck, reaching up on her tiptoes to give him a short goodnight kiss. As she started to pull away, he put his hands on her hips and drew her back into him.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," he chided good-naturedly.

She smiled wearily. "I'm sorry Matt, I'm just really tired."

He hugged her until she almost couldn't breathe. "I know you are," he said softly. She squeezed back, relishing the affection in his embrace. He leaned down and gave her a slow, tender kiss.

"Let's get some sleep," he said, and they crawled into bed.

Kitty turned over on her side while Matt lay on his back, unable to turn off his thoughts. His conversation with Doc—or rather, Doc's soliloquy—had been weighing on him all evening.

_Have you even talked to her about it? Asked her how she feels?_

Matt dealt with adversity the way he dealt with everything else in life—with deep thought and deliberate action, but few words. Doc knew him too well and was right that he had talked very little with her about the events of the past three months. In his mind it happened, it was over, and talking wasn't going to change anything.

Except it clearly was not over for Kitty, a fact that became painfully obvious every time she cried out in the night.

_She has put up with an awful lot, Matt, and she doesn't ask for much_. He could hear Doc's prickly tone in his head.

Matt had always felt that he and Kitty complemented each other perfectly—her social, adventurous personality drew out his fun side, while his calm, thoughtful nature gave her a sense of security. They had never tried to change each other, lovingly accepting their differences most of the time. It's why they had worked so well for ten years. But as he lay in bed, he wondered if she was doing more than her share of the accepting.

Matt turned over and Kitty was asleep. He scooted up next to her so that her back was against his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist until he finally drifted off.

_The preacher was reading Psalm 23 to the crowd gathered around the freshly dug grave. "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures…" Doc was standing next to her, his arm around her shoulder. She was wearing her black dress and clutching something tightly in her hand. She slowly scanned the crowd and saw practically the whole town. What was everyone doing there? The preacher finished his reading and a group of men picked up a casket and lowered it into the ground. The crowd walked away, revealing a tombstone behind the hole. There was a name on it: Matthew Dillon. She turned to Doc with a look of total confusion. He had tears in his eyes. "Doc, why is Matt's name on that tombstone?" she asked, bewildered. "Honey, he's gone," Doc said. "I'm so sorry." She could feel her heart beating in her chest and instinctively squeezed her hands tighter and tighter, until she felt a piercing pain. She opened up her right hand and saw a piece of metal, covered in blood. It said, "U.S. Marshal." She screamed._

Kitty awoke late that morning, alone. She'd had another bad night, finally settling into a deep sleep sometime before dawn. Matt had quietly slipped out early, careful not to disturb her while she was finally getting some rest.

**December 22**

Business was slow this close to the holidays. Kitty busied herself with paperwork and making lists of everything she needed to see about before the big party. She also finally finished up the last of her Christmas shopping. She hadn't seen Matt all day—he had left her a note that morning saying he had some errands to run and would be back as soon as he could.

It was almost closing time when he made his way to The Long Branch. Sam was cleaning up and Kitty sat alone at a table in the back. She smiled as he walked over and took the chair next to her, but it was a sad smile and her eyes looked misty.

"What's wrong?" he asked, putting one of his large hands over her petite one. She shook her head dismissively and said, "Nothing important."

"It's important if it's bothering you," he replied. "Please tell me."

Kitty sighed. "Whiskey didn't show up again tonight," she said. "This isn't like him. I've been hearing coyotes at night, and I can't help but feel like he's not coming back."

As soon as she said it out loud she burst into tears, embarrassed at her uncharacteristic display of emotion. Matt put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry," he said sympathetically.

"I feel so stupid," she sobbed. "It's a cat—and not even my cat really, just a stray I've been feeding. Why am I so upset?" Matt reached up and wiped a tear from each of her sapphire eyes.

"You're very fond of him, Honey," he said gently. "It's perfectly natural to be upset, but it's only been a couple of days. You know how cats are. He might turn up."

Kitty didn't cry often, especially in front of Matt, and it made his insides ache. He couldn't help but wonder how much worse Doc must have seen.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_I'll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams_

Christmas Eve was a beautiful day, the sun in the deep blue Kansas sky shining onto pockets of snow that still remained from last week's storm. Kitty and Sam spent the day preparing The Long Branch for what had become the holiday event of the season. They strung some more tinsel around the bar, put the candles on the tree for lighting, set out the delicate holiday figurines that she had learned from experience to save until the day of the party, and took inventory on drinks. Enjoying everything about entertaining except food preparation, Kitty always generously paid one of her homemaker friends to create a smorgasbord for the occasion, which she would be picking up later. It was an arrangement that greatly benefitted them both.

By early evening the saloon was filled with festive music and dancing, food and drinks, and plenty of people. All of the guests were dressed in their Sunday best—even Festus, who was wearing a clean shirt and vest and his pants without any holes.

Kitty smiled as she looked up and saw Matt walk through the doors, fashionably late, carrying an armload of packages. She directed him to a table in the back of her office where he set them down, removing a heavy coat to reveal his one nice gray suit jacket with the white shirt and black western bow tie. She had seen it on him plenty of times, but she never ceased to feel a little tingle when her man was looking that fine.

The party went well into the evening as a variety of townspeople, friends and strangers alike, wandered in and out to enjoy the holiday cheer. It was nearly eleven o'clock when Doc announced that, unlike the rest of them, he had actually worked that day and was getting tired.

"Babies don't give a cow's behind if it's a holiday," he said, referring to the early morning trip he had made out to the Johnson place to deliver their sixth child. Kitty decided they had better open gifts before Doc turned into a pumpkin. There were only a few people milling around the bar anyway, and it looked like they were getting ready to leave.

Kitty recruited the men to go with her back to the office and carry their gifts out to a table. She smiled as she reached for a beautifully wrapped rectangular box over a foot long. The card on top had her name in Matt's handwriting. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Let's leave that one for later, OK?"

She gave him a curious look and picked up another box instead. What would he not want the others to see?

One by one they opened their gifts, with oohs and aahs and hugs of appreciation. Festus had made everyone a wood carving—a craft he had been mastering—which made his new carving knife even more special. Kitty smiled as she opened the crudely wrapped package and saw that her carving was of a cat.

"I tried to make it look like that little orange feller of yor'n," he said proudly. She didn't have the heart to tell him that Whiskey was gone. "Thank you Festus, I just love it," she said, holding back tears and giving him a kiss on the cheek.

Matt saved his gift from Kitty for last. He untied the red ribbon and opened a small box to reveal what appeared to be a gold pocket watch. It took him by surprise, as she knew he had never carried a watch. Then he opened it and saw that there was actually no time piece in it—just an inscription where the time piece should be that read, "You're late."

Matt almost fell out of his chair laughing, passing it around the table where his friends had the same reaction. He stood up and walked around to where she was sitting, bending over to give her a hug. She could not have given him a better gift at that moment—personal, hilarious, and reassuring. She was still his Kitty.

The party finally broke up around midnight. Sam started to clear away dishes when Kitty said, "Oh no you don't. It's officially Christmas—you're off the clock. Go home and enjoy the holiday." Sam smiled appreciatively as his boss gave him a big hug and sent him off.

They were alone for the first time all evening, and Matt was ready to give Kitty her gift. He retrieved the box from the office and set it on the table in front of her. "Merry Christmas," he said with a hint of nervousness.

She picked up the envelope first—he had never gotten her a Christmas card to go with a gift, and she wondered why now.

The front of the card was a lithograph of a beautiful little girl in an ivory dress and matching hat, long red hair hanging down her back. Under the lithograph it said, "The Best Wishes of the Season." She smiled at the image, knowing he had picked it out just for her.

She opened the card, surprised to see much more than his signature. In fact, there were twelve lines written in that familiar scrawl she had learned to decipher so many years ago. She began reading to herself:

_I'm twice the man I used to be_

_Before you introduced to me_

_A love my heart had yet to see_

_Where you and I are fully we_

_This life I feared was not to share_

_Until my soul you claimed with care_

_No cause for worry or despair_

_I know it rests securely there_

_My heart is fully on display_

_When words I find too hard to say_

_Forever in your arms to stay_

_I cherish each and every day _

Matt scanned her face as her eyes moved across the card, his heart beating slightly faster as he tried to discern a reaction. Kitty slowly laid the card on the table. The thirty seconds it had taken her to read his poem had felt like an eternity.

Her beautiful blue eyes met his. "You wrote this?" she asked.

"Every word," he replied softly. Indeed he had. The idea had come to him as he lay next to her in bed, chewing on Doc's words. _But does she?_

Her Christmas gift had been safely hidden in his office, but that very first birthday she had told him what the perfect gift might be. This was a time for the perfect gift. Putting his feelings down on paper didn't come any easier to him than saying them aloud, and crafting them into poetry was even harder. But he had to try. He had contemplated and written and rewritten those twelve lines all day before deciding this was as perfect as it was going to get.

"Matt…I don't even know what to say," she said, swallowing hard. She, of all people, knew how difficult this must have been for him.

"Just say you like it," he replied. "And that you won't blow your nose on it."

Kitty let out one of her deep cackles, and it was music to his ears. It had been too long since he had heard that laugh. She buried her head in his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. "I couldn't love anything more," she said.

"Well, there's something else," he said, nodding toward the box on the table. "I mean, it would look kind of bad if I just got you a card," he joked.

She untied the delicate ribbon before removing the top to see a lovely wooden box inside. A jewelry box, she thought. She carefully lifted it out, discovering that it was much heavier than she expected. As she set it on the table, she noticed a gold key on the side.

She instantly recognized that type of key. This wasn't a jewelry box—it was a music box.

She admired the deep mahogany finish with the artistic inlaid flower design, thinking this must have cost him a month's salary.

"Oh Matt, "she said. "You shouldn't have done this."

"Do you know what it is?" he asked.

"Of course I do. It's a music box." She wound the key several times, opening the lid as the cylinder revolved and the pins plucked the metal comb. The sound was a sweet as she remembered. A soothing, familiar sound. ___Träumerei__._

Kitty reached back in her memory. It was their first real date, and they had predictably ended up in bed after a dinner filled with sexual tension. They had waited two years for this, and it was worth the wait. Lying next to each other in the afterglow they had talked for hours, sharing feelings and pieces of their pasts they had never shared with anyone else.

They had both lost their mothers at a young age and bonded over the pain of that experience. It was then that she told him about the musical snuff box her mother had given her—how that beautiful, tranquil song had consoled her after her mother died, and her heartbreak when it was stolen.

That was almost ten years ago.

"Where did you find this?" she asked incredulously.

"I had a little help from man's best friend," he replied.

Matt had been recovering from the bullets Mace Gore's gang of outlaws had pumped into him just weeks earlier when duty called. Another trial in Hays, away from Kitty at a time when her emotional wounds were just as painful as his physical ones. Of course, she had not complained.

He paid his usual visit to Mr. Alden's store hoping to find something special. Next to a display case of watches was a table with several music boxes, and it suddenly hit him. What were the chances of finding one that played that song?

Not good, as it turned out. Mr. Alden knew the song, even though Matt could only remember the English translation. Unfortunately, none of these boxes played it.

But Mr. Alden was eager to please one of his favorite customers. He told Matt to give him a couple of days and he would wire his suppliers to see if he could locate one. And he did, in St. Louis. It wasn't quite a month's salary, but it was close. Matt didn't care. Mr. Alden ordered the music box, knowing the Marshal was good for the money, and had it shipped to Dodge City. It had finally arrived the day before the kidnapping and had been sitting in an unmarked box underneath his desk.

"I can't believe you remembered," Kitty said quietly. She honestly couldn't. She had not mentioned it since that night.

"It seemed to mean so much to you," he recalled. "You said it comforted you, and I know what you've been through lately. I wish I had been more sensitive to that."

"You've been fine" she said, looking down. "I mean, you've stayed here every night since you've been back."

"But so much has happened to us, and I've hardly even talked to you about it," he replied. "I can't help but think that's at least part of the reason you've been having such a hard time. Honey, I'm so sorry."

"I understand that you don't like to talk about certain things," she offered.

"I know, but we're a team and we should be dealing with this together. We may have different ways of handling it, but it's not fair if you're always the one having to accept my way. I want to make it up to you, Kitty. I want you to tell me how you're feeling. I want to know what you need from me." Matt had his hands on her shoulders and a pained expression on his face.

Kitty smiled gratefully. "It's this, Matt. What you just said, what you wrote. _This_ is what I need from you."

Matt wrapped his arms firmly around her, thinking how little it took to make her happy.

_You're a dadburn fool if you take that for granted. _I won't, he vowed to himself.

She pulled slightly away from him, letting her hands rest firmly on his behind. "So, how are _you_ feeling, Cowboy?" she asked with a playful tone that told him exactly why she wanted to know.

"Well, now that you mention it, I'm feeling pretty damn good," he replied with equal playfulness.

"You know, I might have some more presents for you upstairs," she teased.

Matt took her hand and started leading her toward the staircase. "Hold on," she said, going back to the table. She picked up the music box and the card. "OK, let's go."

They made love in her bed, slowly but passionately, mindful that while Matt was definitely better, he still had a few tender spots. Kitty expertly worked around them.

Afterwards in each other's arms, they talked. Deep, honest, soul-baring talk, just like their first date. Matt shared what it had been like with the gang of outlaws going to Mexico and how he was determined to make it back for that date with her, no matter how late he was. Kitty told him how she had first learned of his capture and the conversations she'd had with Doc as they waited for word. They talked about how lucky they were to have a friend like Doc. Even if he did spout off a lot, Matt added.

It was well into the early hours of the morning when they decided it was time to get some sleep. A tiny beam of moonlight was shining through the window, and Matt could just make out her silhouette. He cradled her face in his large hands and felt around with his lips until he found hers. They shared one last kiss goodnight, and Matt whispered, "I love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered back. They pulled up the covers and snuggled against each other for warmth.

Kitty suddenly remembered something. "Wait a minute," she said as she hopped out of bed. She felt her way over to the dresser and wound up the music box before settling back into Matt's warm embrace.

The sweet melody of her childhood filled the room_. Dreaming_. It played twice all the way through before beginning to wind down, and Kitty was fast asleep when it stopped. For the first time in over two weeks, she slept peacefully through the night.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A Christmas Story

Epilogue

As usual, Matt woke up first. It was mid-morning and he didn't usually sleep that late, but it was Christmas and he was entitled. He left his sleeping beauty and headed back to the jail to change into regular clothes instead of that uncomfortable suit he had worn to the party.

Kitty lazily got up an hour later, refreshed from her uninterrupted sleep. For a split second she wondered if last night had been a dream—a wonderful, heavenly dream for a change. She looked over at her dresser and smiled. The lid to the music box was still open, and the card was lying next to it. She got out of bed and picked up the card, reading the poem again and reveling in every line.

She leisurely dressed and put on some makeup, then brushed her hair and left it flowing down her back, much like the child pictured on the front of her card. She made her way downstairs and put on some coffee, wondering when Matt was coming back. They had no plans for the holiday, but she was sure they could think of something.

Kitty was sitting at the table sipping her coffee when she heard the batwing doors swing open and in walked that familiar red shirt, tan vest, and cowboy hat.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby," she said, smiling. She got up from the table and melted into his arms. "Thank you for last night. You couldn't have given me a better Christmas."

"We'll see about that," he said, taking her hand and leading her to the office.

He opened up the outside door and whistled loudly. A scruff of orange fur came running toward them, slightly thinner but looking fine.

"Whiskey!" Kitty cried. "Where have you been?"

"I saw him in the alley when I left this morning," Matt said. "It looked like he was with a couple of friends, so I suspect they've just been out carousing. He's still a young fellow, you know."

Kitty laughed, picking him up as he rubbed against her legs purring.

"Well, you have some explaining to do, Mister," she scolded, looking right into his face. Whiskey meowed in response.

"I don't think he's going to be wandering off again," Matt predicted. "I had a little talk with him before I came over."

"Oh you did?" she said, amused. "And what did you tell him?"

"That latching onto Kitty Russell was the smartest thing he's ever done, and he'd better not forget it," Matt replied, reaching up to scratch the cat's ears.

"Take it from me," he added with a smile.

The End.

P.S. Murry Christmas!


End file.
